Shockwave - part 2
by TinkerBella7
Summary: This is part two of Shockwave because everyone wanted to see Jules take Stubborn Sam home.
1. Chapter 1

My very first FLASHPOINT story. I started watching about 2 months ago and have many eps to go but I am a Sam girl and a WHUMP and ANGST whore so...there's that. No warnings. No real swearing. Just Sam Whump and liberties taken with the ep to make Sam suffer. Muahahahahahahaha!

**SHOCKWAVE**

"Is Ronia going to be okay?" Sam asked, as Steve flashed a penlight in his eyes, checking for damage after the blast that had knocked Sam unconscious.

"She is." Steve turned off the light and patted Sam on the shoulder. "Nice work down there. You saved her life."

Sam shrugged off the praise. "You gave the orders, I simply followed them. Like all good soldiers do."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah...well you made a good impression on Ronia. She couldn't stop talking about you."

"I'm glad I could help." Sam made to stand up but a hand on his shoulder pressed him back down. He frowned at Steve. I'm good to go, right?"

"Only place you're going is the hospital to get checked out," Steve replied. "I think you have a concussion."

Sam shook his head, then hid a wince as everything went gray for a moment, pain lancing through the base of his skull. He was pretty sure Steve hadn't noticed though, since he had turned away. So Sam smirked as the EMS turned back to face him. "I'm fine. I have a hard head."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, so I've heard. But you're still going."

"Going where?" It was Jules who asked the question, as she came up next to Sam.

"To the hospital, to get checked out for a possible concussion." Steve was answering Jules, but he was glaring at Sam.

Sam glared back. "Not." He stood up, intending to slip away, only his body turned traitor. His knees buckled, his vision turned blurry, and he was only dimly aware of Jules voice calling his name as strong hands gripped his shoulders. Smaller hands wrapped around his back and Sam hissed as pain rippled through his ribcage. And then there was nausea and the next thing Sam knew he was pushing away before twisting his body and falling to his hands and knees as his stomach emptied it's contents on the sidewalk. Voices floated over him along with the touch of hands on his face. Sam closed his eyes as a cool cloth slid over his hot face, then he was being lifted and moved and there was a moment of vertigo before he was settled on his back, half sitting up, and he blinked hard until the inside of the ambulance filled his vision.

"Take a sip and spit." Jules voice was in his ear, her hand on his face even as he felt the touch of a bottle against his lips.

Sam took a grateful sip, swished it then spit into the emesis basin that appeared below his chin. "Thanks," he croaked.

Steve was on his other side, checking his pulse before a blood pressure cuff wrapped around Sam's arm.

He started to shrug him off only to be told to, "Behave, Sam." He went still and frowned. Where the hell did Sarge come from? He hadn't been there a minute ago, had he? Sam fervently prayed the man hadn't been there to see him puking. "I'm okay," Sam stated, the response coming out automatically.

"Not this time, Sam," Greg replied, patting his knee. "You're going to do as your told and take a nice ride to the hospital. We'll meet you there."

Sam did not like that plan. Not one bit. He used his free hand to push himself upright, only to hiss in pain as that damn agony wrapped around his ribs again. He didn't remember them hurting before. Not while he'd been down in the rubble with Raf and Spike. His head decided to get in on the fun again too, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Oh, and HELLO nausea. There you are. Cool fingertips brushed over his forehead even as Sam found himself reclining back again.

"Take it easy, Sam," Jules whispered, almost in his ear. And he was grateful for her soft tone even as he tried to slow his breathing to control the pain and nausea.

"We need to go," Steve was saying. Then Greg was stepping out and the ambulance started moving.

"Crap," Sam mumbled, knowing he was trapped. But that didn't mean they could make him stay at the hospital. The moment they were done poking and prodding and telling him what he already knew - that he had a hard head and to get some rest - Sam was so out of there. Only, somehow, he zoned out or something because the next thing he knew he was in an exam room and he had no idea how he'd gotten there. He tried asking but his voice was barely a croak of sound. Then a doctor was there, leaning over him, telling him he was going to be fine. Which was stupid, because Sam knew he was fine. They just needed to stop fussing and let him go home.

To that end, Sam made to sit up, only to cry out as pain erupted in flares throughout his body, from head to toe. He felt hands on his shoulders, pressing him down, voices telling him to relax. Darkness swirled around him and he, gratefully, let it drag him down to black.

"...should be able to go home in two days. If he behaves..."

Sam heard a familiar voice, Sarge's voice, from somewhere to his left. He just needed to open his eyes to be sure, but that seemed like an awful lot of work.

"I think he's waking up." That was Jules's voice. Sam was positive of that. And it sounded really close.

So Sam made the Herculean effort to pry his eyelids open and he was rewarded by Jules pretty face hovering over him. She looked worried, but she was smiling. "H-hey..." Sam croaked out, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

Jules shushed him. "Don't talk. I'll get you some water." And suddenly a straw touched his lips and Sam took a few, blissful, sips of the cool liquid. "Better?" Jules asked, anxiously.

"Better." It hurt his head to talk, but at least he sounded more normal this time.

"How are you feeling, buddy?" Greg was standing next to Jules now and he also looked worried.

Deciding it would hurt to nod, since his head already felt heavy and aching, Sam settled for whispering, "Good." Which wasn't entirely true, but wasn't exactly a lie either. He remembered many times when he'd felt much worse than now.

Sarge didn't look convinced, but he didn't call him on it either. "I think we'll let the doctor make that call. But you're going to be fine."

"What happened?" Sam asked, because he really was fuzzy on the details. Why did Sarge and Jules look so damn worried?

"What do you remember?" Sarge countered.

Sam closed his eyes and thought back. "Um...the explosion. We got everyone out. Steve checked me out because I got knocked out then...everything is a bit fuzzy after that." Sam vaguely remembered throwing up but didn't figure that needed a mention. He opened his eyes and stared at Sarge. "I guess I made a trip to the hospital. How long have I been here?"

"Twenty-four hours, just about," Sarge replied.

"What?" Sam just about came up off the bed, probably would have hit the floor, but Sarge and Jules were pushing him back against the pillows, holding him even as he tried to curl into himself against the sudden influx of pain. It felt like it was everywhere. Spiking through his skull, radiating across his ribcage. And his good ,nausea, was making another appearance.

For a moment everything narrowed down to pain and nausea and voices in the background. Then he got a reprieve as the pain trickled away and he felt like he could breathe again without wanting to throw up. Hands were still on him, voices chattering beside him, but Sam kept his eyes closed, focusing only on breathing in and out. Sniper breathing. He didn't know, or care, how much time passed. Eventually he opened his eyes to see a room full of anxious faces.

Ed was at the foot of the bed. "You back with us, Sam?"

"Yeah..." he was careful to whisper this time. He could feel cold sweat on his face and he lifted one hand only to freeze when he saw an IV taped to the back. When the hell had that happened?

"Easy." Jules was suddenly there, pressing his hand back down.

Sam blinked at her as she grabbed a cloth and wiped his face for him. It felt nice, but it was so weird too.

Then a strange face was hovering over him on the other side and Sam frowned at him. Only to realize he was wearing a white lab coat. A doctor. Yep. Dr. Kerns was printed on his name tag. But seeing Sam staring at him, he introduced himself.

"I'm Dr. Kerns, Mr. Braddock. I've been taking care of you." Strong fingers pressed against his pulse. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." The reply was automatic and drew a few chuckles from his teammates.

"Standard Samtastic reply." That came from Spike.

The Doctor nodded, then looked solemnly at Sam. "You have a serious concussion, young man. And 3 cracked ribs with some internal and external bruising throughout your torso. You need to rest and heal. I had planned to release you in two days..."

Sam made a sound of protest, too stunned to even form proper words.

"Sam." It was Sarge speaking to him now. Waiting for him to look at him before continuing. Ever the good soldier, Sam obeyed. Sarge smiled at him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You will follow doctor's orders," Sarge stated. "We want you back soon and at one hundred percent."

"I...I can rest at home," Sam protested, remembering to whisper. For which his aching head thanked him.

"And you will," Dr. Kerns interjected, drawing Sam's attention back in his direction. "You'll be on leave for two weeks. Then you can go back to work on light duty."

Sam felt like he'd been slapped in the face. "Two weeks..." That would feel like forever. And it was crazy. He had a bump on the head and some sore ribs. In JTF2 he'd be back on duty in two days. Tops.

A soft hand touched his cheek and Sam turned his head, hiding a wince, to see Jules eyeing him with concern. He didn't like seeing her worry about him. But he did like the way she he cool touch seemed to ease the ache in his head. "Sam." Jules kept her tone soft. "You need to take it easy, okay? You're not a machine and no one expects you to be. Just do what you need to do to get better."

"I...I don't need to stay here to do that," Sam protested. He wanted to please her, he did, but he really did not want to stay here. Not even for another minute.

"It's just two days, Sam."

"If he behaves himself," Dr. Kerns interjected.

Sam resisted the urge to glare at the man. Instead he focused on Sarge. Sarge would help him. "I promise I'll go straight home and do nothing but sleep for two days. I'll be fine to come back after that."

Sarge looked sympathetic, but he was shaking his head. "No go, Sam. You stay here. You do as you're told, and when you're back to one hundred percent you'll be back to work."

"But..." Sam broke in, only to have Sarge cut him off.

"This is non negotiable, Sam." Sarge looked sorry, but he was firm. "Dr. Kerns is in charge and you do as you're told. Copy?"

Sam knew when he was defeated. "Copy," he mumbled, glaring at Sarge in betrayal.

Dr. Kerns was fussing with Sam's IV line. "I'm going to give you something for the pain and to help you relax, Sam. The next two days will pass by before you know it."

A warm lethargy was seeping through Sam and he knew he was being drugged into unconsciousness. He wasn't happy about it, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe he'd wake up and this would all have been a dream. His eyelids felt heavy but he held off the darkness for one more second. He wanted one last look at Jules's beautiful face.

"Sweet dreams, Sam," Jules whispered.

He let her voice be his lullaby to oblivion.

**THE END?**


	2. Chapter 2

**SHOCKWAVE...part 2**

Sam made it through the first day in the hospital with relative ease. Mainly because the pain meds Dr. Kerns gave him kept him floating in and out of oblivion the entire time. But by day two the nausea was pretty much gone, so long as he didn't move too much. Same for the pain in his head and ribs. Slow motion and he was good. So he was more than ready to go home. Also, Despite Sarge's orders, Sam was more than willing to sign himself out, AMA, on day two. And he totally would have done so, had he been given a chance. But it seemed like every time he got five minutes to himself and was ready to get dressed and breeze out of there, someone showed up. It was like they were watching him, which was getting extremely frustrating. So by the time the team showed up, later that night, Sam was feeling rather grumpy.

"Hey, Samtastic!" Spike offered in greeting, as the first one in the room. "Brought you some take out. Cheeseburger with the works, just how you like it, buddy." Spike waved the bag in front of Sam before setting it on the side table.

"Thanks, Spike." Sam appreciated the thought, he really did, but the smell was making him feel a bit nauseous. Usually Sam loved nothing more than a good burger, but today he hadn't felt like eating anything. To the point where even the doctor came to yell at him, insisting he at least eat some toast. Sam had dumped the toast in the trash can.

Sarge was next in the door, moving to Sam's bedside. "How are you feeling, Sam?"

He forced a smile, fully aware it was hardly convincing. But Sam blamed Sarge for him still being there, sneaky bastard. "I'm good," he replied. "Ready to go home."

"Glad to hear that." Greg patted Sam on the shoulder. "I spoke with Dr. Kerns. He said you're not eating."

"Not hungry." Sam knew he sounded like a petulant kid, but he couldn't help it.

Greg studied Sam for a moment, no doubt seeing right through him. "Dr. Kerns mentioned to me that he'd like to keep you here for at least one more day, Sam."

Shock flared through Sam, then disbelief, then anger. "No WAY!" He was shouting and he didn't care. His fingers scrabbled at the IV taped to the back of his hand. He was out of this place right the hell now.

"Sam!" Ed's voice barked in his ear, even as a strong hand gripped his wrist, keeping him from pulling out the IV.

"Take it easy, Sam." Greg's quiet voice was playing negotiator on his other side. "Calm down and we'll talk."

Sam shook his head, glaring at both men, even though it hurt his head to do so. "I'm not staying here, Sarge. Forget it! I'm going home. Now!" He tried to free his arm from Ed's grip, but the other man wasn't letting go. Sam focused his anger on him, "Let go of me!" he growled.

Greg patted Sam on the shoulder, drawing his attention. "Ed will let go when you calm down. Deal?"

"Don't negotiate with me!" Sam snapped, but he was winding down if only because his head was really starting to ache and his stupid nausea was threatening to come back. He glared at Sarge for a moment before making his body relax against the pillows. "Fine," Sam muttered. "I'm calm." And embarrassed, because he suddenly realized they had an audience. Spike, Jules and Raf were all standing at the foot of the bed, watching Sam lose his cool. Way to go, Braddock, Sam chastised himself. He had probably just garnered himself another two days in this damn place.

"You feeling okay, Sam?" Was Greg's first question, as he eyed Sam with concern.

Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, Sam nodded. He felt suddenly exhausted, lacking the energy to make a fuss anymore. "I'm good." He felt Ed release his wrist and Sam mumbled his "Thanks."

Greg still looked worried, but he studied Sam a moment before asking, "Feeling up to a negotiation?"

"Sure." Sam eyed him with suspicion, but he figured he didn't have anything to lose. "What's the deal?"

"I told Dr. Kerns that you would rest better in your own place. So he's agreed to let you leave...tonight." Greg chuckled as he watched shock and surprise play over Sam's face.

It was exactly what Sam wanted to hear, but he wasn't sure it was going to be that easy. "What's the catch?" he countered. Because he knew there was one.

Smiling, Greg turned to Ed. "You want to tell him?"

"Chicken," Ed taunted, but he agreed. "Dr. Kerns agreed to release you, tonight, so long as someone stays with you for the next two days."

"Done," Sam replied, without hesitation, fingers going to work on the IV tape again. He'll tell the Doctor his sister lives with him, no matter that she wasn't anymore. Kerns didn't know that. Didn't need to know that.

Greg stopped his hand. "Somebody actually has to be with you, Sam. You can't go home alone."

Sam felt insulted. "I can take care of myself."

"I know. But we want you to be okay and, hard-headed or not, you're not exactly in a good place to make judgement calls about your physical condition. You're trained to ignore symptons. To work through pain and exhaustion. " Greg locked eyes with Sam. "That's all very impressive, and necessary, when you're out in the field. When you're in hostile territory. But right now we just want you to rest and heal. Okay?"

"I'll call someone." Sam knew when he was defeated and he was determined to accept defeat gracefully this time. The team already had to think he was losing it, based on his earlier behavior. Sam's reputation had always been Mr. Cool and calm in any situation, but he'd blown that out of the water these past two days. So now he had a lot of making up to do.

Ed laughed, an outright belly laugh, making Sam look at him in surprise.

Had he missed a joke? So Sam had to ask, "What's so funny?"

"Ignore him," Greg advised. "We've already made arrangements, Sam. Jules has a couple of personal days she needs to use up, so she'll take you home and stay with you."

"What?" Sam knew he hadn't heard that right. No way Jules would agree to that. Or Sarge, for that matter.

She moved to stand beside Greg, giving Sam an apologetic smile. "I drew the short straw. Although I think it was rigged." Jules leaned in close said, conspiratorially, "They're scared of you."

"I'm not scared of Samtastic!" Spike protested.

"I am," Raf volunteered.

Jules rolled her eyes at them, then focused her attention back on Sam. "So, if you feel up to it, the nurse will remove the IV and you can get dressed and we'll go."

Spike stepped forward with a duffle bag. "I grabbed the extra clothes you had in your locker."

"Thanks." Sam was more than ready to get out of here, but he was feeling a bit overwhelmed still. None of this was making sense. Not that he was going to complain.

And right on cue a nurse appeared, kicking his visitors out so she could remove the IV and Sam could get dressed. Which took a lot longer than he had expected it to. By the time he was pulling on his jacket, Sam was half tempted to crawl back into the hospital bed for a nap. Not that he would let the team see that. Nope. When he stepped out of the bathroom they were waiting for him and Sam evened out his breathing and put a smile on his face. "Let's get out of here."

Jules grinned at him. "Copy that."

"We'll come visit tomorrow after work," Greg said, as the nurse appeared with paperwork for Sam to sign. His legit release.

"Sounds good," Sam replied, signing with a flourish.

Spike moved to Sam, slinging an arm over his shoulders. "Raf and I will bring pizza," he offered.

Which cause Raf to glare at him. "What's this *we* stuff?" He glanced over at Sam. "Not that I'm against pizza, buddy. I just like to be asked." His glare returned to Spike.

"Children..." Greg interjected, sternly. But he was smiling. "Let's get you home, Sam."

"Can't wait." Shrugging off Spike's arm, Sam headed for the door. As he reached the elevator he found Jules keeping step. "You know...you don't have to do this," he said softly.

Jules shrugged. "Short straw, Sam."

He knew she was humoring him and a part of him was happy she would be there, but another part of him knew it would be too hard to have her around. Too easy to give in to his feelings for her. The emotional agony would be worse than anything his body had suffered. But he didn't say anything else as they made to step into the elevator, only to be hailed by a nurse pushing a wheel chair.

"Hospital policy, Mr. Braddock," she stated, as she caught up to them. When he balked she narrowed her gaze at him and pointed to the chair. "Sit!"

"Crap," Sam muttered, but he sat, mainly because he was afraid they would renege on the deal if he didn't. So he let himself be wheeled to the exit. But once there he was quick to get up and head out, leaving Jules to almost run to catch up.

She grabbed him by the elbow. "Slow down, you're not doing yourself any favors pushing too hard, Sam."

He grinned at her as he stepped out into the twilight. "I'm fine, Jules," he replied. "And free."

"Is that why you're limping?" she countered.

"What?" And to Sam's surprised he was hunched over a bit and limping. Okay, so he was still sore. But physical pain was something he knew how to deal with. The other stuff, not so much. Slowing down, Sam looked over at Jules. "I'm just glad to be going home. The rest doesn't matter."

Jules nodded. "I know the feeling. Come on." She linked her arm through his. "I'm parked over here."

Sam followed her, reveling in her touch, even though he knew it didn't mean anything. They were nothing more than friends and teammates, which he could live with. Would live with. But sometimes it was tempting to wish it could be something more. But he cut short that line of thinking to say goodbye to the others before slipping into the passenger seat of Jules's jeep.

Twenty minutes later, Sam found himself home. And grateful to be there. The adrenaline forged by his excitement to leave the hospital had faded on the drive over and he was feeling like one giant, walking, pain from head to toe. To the point where he lost all focus and it took two tries to get his key in the door.

"You okay, Sam?" Jules queried, following him inside and flicking on the lights.

"I'm good." Standard reply, truth or not. Sam focused on his breathing as he headed for his bedroom. He wanted to down half a bottle of aspirin then sleep. He was sure if he just slept the night through he'd be fine in the morning.

Jules followed him, stepping in to help Sam ease his jacket off. "Why don't you lie down. The doctor gave me some prescription pain killers for you. I'll get them and some water."

Sam shook his head, regretted it, then sucked down the pain as he rummaged in his dresser drawers for sweats, a tee and underwear. "I need to shower."

"You sure you're up to it?" Jules was by his side, looking concerned.

"Yep." Sam couldn't look at her. Couldn't remember what it had been like to touch her. To kiss her. To feel her sweet body melded with his. The memories were their own kind of pain. Even though he was glad she was here. He was glad he could see her like this. To just be with her. Even though it couldn't last. "I'll be right back." Sam stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He was losing it, big time. He usually had much better control than this and he blamed it on not feeling up to par. He was tired. He'd shower, push Jules out the door, then sleep. Everything would be back to normal in the morning.

A knock on his door made Sam freeze in the act of getting into the shower. "I'm giving you five minutes, Sam. If you're not done I'm coming in!"

He almost laughed at that, even though he knew she meant it. "I'm good!" he called out. "Give me ten." Then he turned the shower on full blast and stepped inside. He wasn't moving fast, and staring at the mottled bruising on his torso claimed a full minute of his allotted time. But after a moment he forced himself to move. He washed his hair first, wincing at having to lift his arms and rub at his tender skull. Then he soaped up everything else, rinsed off, got dried then spent a minute resting before being able to get dressed.

"Sam! Times up!" Jules banged on the door, sounding worried.

"I'm coming now," he replied, unlocking the door and opening it to see her beautiful face staring at him in concern. Sam felt her eyes rove over him, coming to rest on his face. Or maybe not."

She pointed to his head. "Your hair is dripping wet."

Sam patted his head, then stared at his wet palm. That would explain why water was dripping down his face still. He really was beat. But before he could grab a towel, Jules was slipping past him and scooping one up before leading Sam over to his bed and making him sit. She was gentle as she dried his hair.

"So how many years did you live with Blondie as a nickname?" Jules queried, as she dropped the towel to finger comb the damp strands.

"Too many," Sam admitted, leaning into her soothing touch. He could indulge himself, just for a minute. Although, that was just asking for trouble. So Sam pulled away and stood up. "You really don't have to stay, Jules. I'm fine. Really."

She stood facing him, towel in hand, looking thoughtful. "I'm not going to leave you alone, Sam. So don't ask."

He knew how stubborn she could be, so he simply nodded. "Okay." He could do this. He'd just go to sleep and then morning would come and he'd be stronger and everything would be the same between them. He could do that.

"Get in bed." Jules had the blankets already drawn back and she shooed Sam in between them. Once he was settled, she covered him gently, smoothing everything over him. Then she reached for a white pill and a glass of water from the bedside table. "Take this. It'll help."

"I'm good," Sam replied, automatically.

But Jules was relentless. "Don't make me sit on you and force it down your throat. Because I will."

He knew she would. So Sam took the pill, swallowed it down, handed back the glass and closed his eyes. He didn't need to see Jules to feel her presence. He listened to her moving quietly about the room and he knew the moment she turned out the lights.

"I'll be watching over you, Sam," Jules promised, before brushing a kiss to his temple.

And he wondered if maybe that was just a dream, even as he lifted a hand to touch where her lips had been. Sam didn't open his eyes. He simply let himself drift into oblivion.

**THE END**


End file.
